Hit 'n' Run
by RushtonRules
Summary: Basically the night Pony comes home and runs away, through Darry's eyes. And NO I will not be adding chapters or changing the title...so there. Too bad... Review...please


Disclaimer: If it was mine it would already have been put in the book

A/N: This just a little story from Darry's POV because I like him (GO PATERICK!!!!!!) when he hit Pony ::boo hoo::

And I'm sorry if there's any spelling/grammer errors because Microsoft Word isn't working on my computer so I had to use Word Pad.......I HATE Word Pad!

.........erm........yes

Anyways...enjoy, appreciate and review! ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!

thoughts of Darry talking to self -- 'blah blah blah'

actual talking -- "dum de dum dum dummmm"

Darry being Darry -- ...........blah.................

Darry's POV

'Where _is _he? Ponyboy should've been home _two hours_ ago. Why is he constantly testing my patience?'

I turned away from the freshly made chocolate cake and took up the armchair beneath the lamp. I picked up the newspaper and turned to the sports page.

I wasn't really reading it, I looked at it this morning... well now it would actually be _yesterday_ ...yes..., but I needed something to take my mind off things... It wasn't working.

_Damn. Stupid non-distracting newspaper._

I glanced over at Soda who was dozing off on the sofa. He moved around a bit and was soon lying with his head hanging over the edge, hair brushing the floor, and one leg draped over the back of the chair with the other slowly sliding down with the force of gravity before it stopped about an inch from the floor.

Soda always reminds me of mum A/N: ha...you can just tell I'm Aussie before she died. Long hair, sensitive face, soft eyes... the whole deal. Sometimes it scares me.

I drag my attention back to the newspaper and turn the pages looking for something new.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothingnothingnothingnothingno--oh wow. Lookie what I found. _The President's Address. _Wonder what the old coot has to say _this _time.

I scan through the coot's drabble but find nothing of interest. Just the usual rights and freedom of speech and world peace. _BOR-RING!_

Soda is definitly more entertaining to watch. I glance at the sofa again.

His upside-down face is turning an interesting shade of crimson. It makes him look a bit evil actually.

'I'll have to wake him up before he completely flops on the floor. Hmmmmm...maybe I should take a photo?'

I was just trying to figure out where I'd hidden the camera after Two-bit had almost succeeded in craming a picture of an... -_ahem_- lady in the lens, the front door swung softly open and there was Ponyboy, looking as if he had just woken up in a dump. His hair was mussed up, dirt on his elbows and nervously chewing a fingernail.

I was on my feet in an instant.

"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" I said, trying and failing miserably to keep my voice calm.

He shook his head dumbly, eyes wide, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights of a monster truck with an unlicensed bloody Volvo driver behind he wheel.

I decided to enlighten my young charge with the knowledge of the time past since the sun began its journey back to our humble side of the world.

"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo." Better splash in a bit of terror and a side of guilt. "Another hour and I would have had the police out after you."

Not that I'd really do that...I'm not a complete idiot.

"Where were you, Ponyboy?" -my voice raising- "Where in the almightly universe were you?"

If he doesn't have a good excuse I'll ground him 'til he's 20, no 25--wait, 30...damnit, I'll make it an even _50_.

Pony opened his mouth only to stammer, "I...I went to sleep on the waste ground..."

_HE WHAT?! _

"You what?" I shouted. I couldn't believe it. Surely he wasn't _that _stupid to let his guard down there after what happened to Johnny? Where in the world does this kid get his ideas from? Doesn't he even think about how worried I would be?

In one of the more alert parts of my questioning brain I saw Soda somehow sitting back on the sofa (he had flopped off while my back was turned) and giving Pony a sleepy - and most probably cheery - hello.

I turned my full attention back to Pony. He was positively quaking in his tattered sneakers. And he had good reason to. Not even _I_ would like to face myself this mood.

"I didn't mean to", he pleaded, looking for anyway out of the oncoming tongue lashing. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."

That kid just doesn't think.

"I reckon it never occured to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you thrown in a boy's home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep on the waste ground? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on!"

I saw him shiver at this and his cheeks began to flush red with what appeared to be anger and frustration. Good. Now he knows how I feel about what he does.

"I said I didn't mean to--"

"I didn't mean to!" I cut him off before he could finish.

It gets really annoying when he uses the same excuse (and a bad one at that) again and again and again. I decided to throw them back for a change.

"I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?" rattling it off on my fingers.

"Darry..." came the warning voice of Soda.

I hate it when he sticks up for Pony. It makes me mad at him for trying to help, for being the nice brother, and I don't like being mad at Soda, he's just too...nice. But this time I couldn't stop myself.

"Keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him!" I yelled at him. He shrunk deeper into the cushions of the sofa and frowned at me. Well...good for him.

"You don't yell at him!" Ponyboy shouted.

Before I knew what was happening, I had turned around and slapped him into the door.

I froze.

I looked at my hand. Had it just done what I thought it did?

It began to turn red under my bewielded gaze in answer.

'Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! I didn't just do that. I didn't hit Pony. I would never hit him. Nobody's ever hit him. He's gonna hate me. Soda's gonna hate me. The whole gang's gonna hate me now. _I hope he isn't hurt._' I rammbled on in my head as I watched him find his feet and look at me.

His eyes betrayed the one emotion I strived so hard to keep out of both my brothers eyes ever since mum and dad died. It made me want to die myself. I'd even dig my own grave to be able not to see that look again.

_Fear._

"Ponyboy..." I said softly, as soon as I found my voice. I need to comfort him, give him a hug, make him love me again. I have to. I _need _to.

But he just turned and ran out the door and down the street.

_He can't leave!_ "Ponyboy, I didn't mean it!" I screamed desperately after him. "Come back, please.... I didn't mean it," my voice dropping to a whisper. _Come back._

I moved over to the doorframe to see outside.

I felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder and I turned around to meet Soda's mud brown eyes.

"Leave him." he said. "Let him walk it off. He's tough."

I nodded. I didn't need Pony running even further if he saw me coming. I might freak him out.

"We'll give him an hour or two and if he isn't back by then we'll go find him. Hmmmm?" Soda said, cheering me up a little.

I nodded again. I'm beginning to feel like one of those toy dogs in the windows of Soc cars, bobbing along. Nod, nod nodding.

"Come on. D'you want some chocolate cake?" he said as he bounded into the kitchen.

It took me a moment to realise that he was trying to take my mind off things and make me feel better. He was pretending to be happy to help me.

I love that guy.

I sighed and slid slowly down the doorframe to come to rest with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms circling them.

And I waited.

I could hear sounds of Soda singing '..._sweet home at-the-Curtis-house...I'll be coming home to Darry...de do de do_.....'

Cute.

When Ponyboy comes home I'll be right here waiting for him.

The End

Well......::waits expectently::..whadda ya think?.....::ducks rotten vegetables flying through the air:: Hey! Surely it wasn't that bad? ::old boot whacks head:: Fine! Fine! I'm going! Just...::squirted with maple syrup::..._AAAAAARRRGGH!!!!_ REVIEW!! REVIEW!! ::runs into sunset, never to be seen again::


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